Page 27 of Dark Shaman: Love Found
Hildegard shifted into triangle pose, bending sideways with one hand reaching toward the floor, the other stretching toward the ceiling. The movement stretched muscles that had grown stiff from too many hours in the uncomfortable chair, reading aloud from increasingly ridiculous fiction because she'd exhausted all the books she could find about sarcastic anti-heroes.
Surprisingly, it wasn't a wildly popular genre.
It should be, even if people like her and Tim represented a tiny percentage of the population. It was an undiscovered niche that hadn't been saturated yet, and if she'd had fun reading those stories, others would too.
Perhaps she should start writing.
"I can call my bookThe Cantankerous Sleeping Beauty," she said, maintaining the pose while addressing Tim's unconscious form. "Or sixteen days of metamorphosis. You're now officially taller than you were in those platform boots Andrew told me about. You are my height, which should make you happy. With those boots, you can be taller than me and feel all manly. The problem is that your feet grew as well, so you will need bigger boots."
As always, there was no response, and Hildegard hadn't expected any.
She'd developed a habit of talking to him throughout her activities. It made the long hours feel less boring, and some studies suggested that comatose patients benefited from hearing and processing speech. Still, regardless of whether Tim was actually aware of her one-sided conversations, it helped her maintain some semblance of normalcy in the abnormal situation.
Although transitioning Dormants were no longer uncommon in the clan, Tim was taking longer than most. Not the longest, though. Not yet. And she hoped he wouldn't break any records because she wanted him to wake up already.
"Today, Gertrude offered again to take over," she continued, shifting to the other side for balance. "Sweet of her, but we both know I'd just end up hovering nearby and checking on you every five minutes. I don't know how you did it, but you've gotten under my skin."
The two times she'd actually left the clinic—once to grab clothes from her house, and the other when Gertrude had practically forced her out to get some fresh air—she'd been anxious the entire time. What if Tim woke while she was gone? What if something went wrong and she wasn't there to catch it?
Hildegard knew it wasn't rational. Gertrude was perfectly competent, and Bridget was seconds away in the office building. But rationality had little to do with the protective instinct she'd developed for Tim.
It was just so sad that he didn't have anyone to care for him and was all alone in the clinic.
Other Dormants had a mate sleeping on a cot next to their hospital bed, and some even had extended family visiting. Tim was all alone, with Andrew and Roni popping in occasionally out of guilt and obligation rather than any genuine feelings of friendship. To them, he was just a coworker whom neither liked.
Moving into downward dog, Hildegard planted her palms firmly on the floor, pushing her hips up and back. The position gave her an inverted view of Tim, and she studied his face from this unusual angle. Even unconscious, even gaunt from the transformation, something was compelling about his features now. He wasn't traditionally handsome, he would never be that, but he was interesting. Compelling.
"Bridget stopped by yesterday," she said, holding the pose. "She's impressed with your progress. Says she's never seen anyone gain so much height so quickly without showing signs of systemic stress. You're apparently setting all kinds of records."
She didn't mention Bridget's other observation—that such dramatic changes usually indicated proximity to the source, genetically speaking. Tim, the perpetual outsider who'd turned being difficult into an art form, might be one of the closest descendants of the gods they'd found.
Who knew? Maybe he was one of Toven's descendants, just lacking the good looks. Not entirely, though.
He was good-looking in his own special way, and when his hair grew back, he might even become borderline handsome.
Not that she cared all that much about his physical attributes. It was his sharp mind and even sharper tongue that appealed to her.
Hildegard transitioned into the child's pose, kneeling with her arms stretched forward, forehead touching the floor. It was meant to be a resting position, but facing away from Tim made her uncomfortable. She held it for thirty seconds before sitting up.
That's when she saw it.
Tim's index finger twitched.
It wasn't the random muscle spasms that had occurred throughout his transformation. This was different. Deliberate, almost as if he were trying to signal her.
Hildegard was on her feet and next to him in an instant, scanning the monitors.
Heart rate up to sixty-eight. Respiratory rate increasing. Brain activity…
"Holy shit," she breathed.
The EEG showed increased activity across all frequencies. Not quite normal waking patterns, but far more than the deep unconsciousness of the past two weeks. He was swimming up from wherever his consciousness had been hiding while his body rebuilt itself.
"Tim?" She kept her voice calm despite the excitement thrumming through her. "Can you hear me? It's Hildegard. Your favorite nurse, remember? The hottie you can't wait to impress with your sharp remarks?"
Another finger twitch. His middle finger this time, which made her laugh.
"Are you trying to flip me off while unconscious? That's Tim to a double 'T'."
